


Reassurance

by SS_Shitstorm



Category: Naruto
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, youfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS_Shitstorm/pseuds/SS_Shitstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years undercover can be hard on anyone. Thank god you've got someone to confide in, even if he is a perverted asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reassurance

A/N Another upload from my abandoned account elsewhere. This thing is old as fuck. Like Jiraiya. ha.

Enjoy.

 

 

****

Pervy sage, Ero-sennin, The Great Toad Sage. Condescending two faced DICK-head.

 

Whatever he went by, whatever you wanted to call him, he’d be minus a scrotum by the time you were done with him.

 

You let out an indignant huff through pursed lips, grinding your teeth painfully hard on the left side, just barely missing the occasional dead branch as the navigated through the dying forest out-skirting Iwagakure. Truth be told, the guise of a whore, (high heels, miniskirt and all) was NOT the best outfit to be traveling even short distances in, much less rushing through a deadwood that made Konoha’s training ground #44 look like a kiddy sandbox.

 

It hadn’t been easy, nor your choice to leave your birth village for the permanent vocation as a double spy, your façade as a glorified harem girl was only the icing on the cake. It cold have been worse; you could have been assigned the role of an actual prostitute, but thankfully the long-term mission only required you play the part of sake girl at a sleazy hostess bar.

 

It was the ideal setup : a loyal, dedicated Konoha chuunin posing as a civilian at one of Iwa’s many non-militaristic towns passing information to yet another shinobi under the guise of a frequent costumer. And who better to play the part then a man that had more sexual harassment charges than fish in the sea?

 

But right now, you could care less HOW many women he’d bagged, HOW many he’d paid, or how goddamn desperate he was to hire two of YOUR ‘co-workers’ while on a mission, nothing, repeat : NOTHING was going to save Jiraiya’s testicles from your heavily manicured nails this time.

 

Finally, your workplace comes into sight, and you slow down your feverish pace just enough to keep you from colliding with the wall. Inhaling sharply, you attempt to regain JUST enough composure to not puncture a lung screaming obscenities upon entering. You take a deep breath, and push aside the screen door.

 

“ERO-FUCKING-SENNIN!”

 

The entire building, sans an obnoxious, guttural laughter from one of the backrooms, goes dead silent.

 

Great. Your manager was SO going to kill you.

 

But right now, that didn’t matter. NOTHING mattered except following said guttural laughter back to the source and wrapping the gorgeous white hair around Jiraiya’s neck and strangling him with it.

 

Okay, you totally DID NOT just have both “Jiraiya” and “gorgeous” in the same thought process. Not at all. You scrunch your face attempting to hide a very obviously flushed complexion, following said obnoxious laughter to the very, VERY back room of the building. The room usually reserved for customer’s willing to spend more than others, and, after nearly a minute-long battle with a reluctant doorknob, opt to displace the entire door with a well-aimed kick.

 

And you see, him, in all his drunken, perverted glory with two women draped over his lap and his pants half off.

 

“Ah, ‘_____’-chan.” Jiraiya attempts what he clearly thought was a sexy smirk, to only come off as more of a lopsided scowl. “Finally come to join us, eh?”

 

Your left eye involuntarily twitches.

 

“Both of you” you motion to the girl whilst jabbing your thumb in the opposite directions. “Out.”

 

Normally, they would’ve protested. A high paying, repeat client such as Jiraiya wasn’t someone to give up on easily. But due to your tone of voice having the ability to make plants and small animals die at the moment, the two instantly scatter, knocking over the table, chairs, and sake in their wake.

 

“And you,” you seethe, turning back to the effectively intoxicated sannin. “Put your goddamn pants back on. Or better yet, don’t. It’ll make it far easier for me to tear your balls off.”

 

Jiraiya, unlike the girls, fails to even flinch.

 

“Sheesh, calm down.” he mutters, wrapping his mouth around some unmarked bottle he’d procured out of nowhere. “Why’re you so worked up anyways? I’m not even late for the appointment. Actually, I’m two minutes early” he grins, obviously experiencing a hugely unwarranted feeling of accomplishment.

 

“Calm down?!” you growl through gritted teeth” I receive a message via carrier hawk that you’ve gone MISSING, spent TWELVE HOURS looking for your presumably mangled corpse out in the forest only to come back to you in the back room with my goddamn co-workers with your PANTS off, which you STILL haven’t put back on mind you!”

 

“You just TOLD me to leave them off.” He retorts, taking yet another swing of what you assumed was some off-brand hard liquor. “Besides, what does it matter if I show up a few hours late? Don’t you have other customers to attend to?”

 

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because I was actually WORRIED about you?” you shot back.

 

“Worried?” a genuine grin spreads across the older man’s face. “Awww sheesh. Don’t tell me you’re getting attached to an old pervert like me, are you?”

 

“Fuck off” you mutter, quickly turning your head away to hide your obviously flushed cheeks. “Where’s the orange-jumpsuit brat anyways?”

 

“Over there” Jiraiya jabs a thumb over his shoulder, and you crane your neck to find a mess of black and orange clothing curled up in a chair behind the sofa.

 

An exasperated groan escapes you as you make your way over to the sleeping boy, kneeling beside him, running your hands through his messy blonde hair. You’d gotten used to Naruto accompanying Jiraiya over the past couple of years, the boy making his visits more and more frequent before announcing that he’d be traveling strictly with Jiraiya for some time during his training regimen. The kyuubi vessel never failed to bring out a softer, more maternal side of you that no-one but he and Jiraiya were privy to.

 

“You really should’ve put him to bed earlier, y’know” you murmur, wiping the crusted drool off Naruto’s lips. “Especially if you were going to have women around.”

 

“I don’t have a room here. “ he retorts, letting out a tired sigh.” I wasn’t even planning on staying in town over night. The rates at this place are getting ridiculous“

 

“Cheapskate.“ You frown, narrowing your eyes at him., before shuffling through the pockets of your robe and throwing a small silver object at him.

 

“That’s my spare room key.” you explain before he has the chance to ask. “I’m taking Naruto up there now. “ you deadpan, hoisting the sleeping boy up over your shoulder before turning to exit the room. “If you feel like getting off your drunk ass anytime soon, you can meet us up there. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.” you all but storm out of the room, oddly finding yourself slightly disappointed when it become apparent Jiraiya isn’t following you up. Biting you lip, you slam the door shut, wondering exactly why you even put up with the bastard in the first place, much less lose sleep over him.

 

 _“Maybe it‘s the hair.“_ Part of you wonders as you begin the arduous task of hauling an unconscious Naruto up three flights of stairs.

 

_“Yeah, it’s definitely the hair.”_

 

******************************

 

It’s entirely quiet when you find yourself sneaking back downstairs, sleeping having evaded you for the past few hours (Naruto’s earth shattering snoring hadn’t helped either) to come back to a nearly deserted bar, the few costumers remaining hurrying to finish up whatever business they had, or throw in a couple last-ditch efforts to bring a women home. Great. The pickings for even remote amounts of entertainment looked slim. You might as well go find Jiraiya and get the information-sharing over with.

 

As quietly as you can manage, you make your way over to the back room where you last saw him and poke your head in.

 

Nothing.

 

You sigh heavily, rubbing your aching forehead. The rooms as still trashed from the radical escape the girls made, and whatever else they’d been doing before that. You’d definitely be the one cleaning this up tomorrow.

 

On a whim, you rescue the half-empty bottle of x-brand liquor from under the couch, smirking to yourself. Anything was better than the cheap sake they served at this place. Maybe you’d just keep this around for later. You happily plop down on the couch, which felt oddly lumpy and uncomfortable, and yank the cork out, just a taste right now wouldn’t hurt, would it?

 

“…Ow…”

 

To your surprise, the complaint comes seemingly out of thin air. To your horror, the couch, or whatever you were sitting on begins to move. Warily, not daring to move, you crane your neck to see a disgruntled mess of a sannin glaring at you.

 

“Could you please get off my back? I’m trying to sleep.”

 

*WHACK*

 

On shinobi terms, it wasn’t the brightest of ideas to strike someone nearly a hundred times your power, skill, and chakra level, but goddamn if he didn’t deserve it.

 

“The hell was that for?!” Jiraiya snarls, rubbing his poor, abused head.

 

“For scaring the shit outta me” you retort, just now remembering the bottle in your left hand and gingerly taking a sip.

 

“That wasn’t even my fault”

 

You let out a huff of disdain-snort, more like it, as you try to respond before the liquor had made it all the way to your throat. “ Then consider it payback for being such a dick earlier. You’re lucky I didn’t go after your testicles.”

 

The elder man snorts, an air of severely unwarranted superiority in his voice. “And exactly “how” was I being a dick earlier? I didn’t even SEE you until about three hours ago.”

 

“That’s the point!” you shout, slamming your bottle down hard enough to warrant several small cracks. “ You were at LEAST a day and a half LATE, and THEN you have the balls to play around with the worst sluts here while waiting for ME to come back! Do you know how long I was LOOKING for your sorry ass?”

 

“Pfffft” Jiraiya looks to be on the verge of laughing. “Pot, kettle, black.” he manages, obviously struggling to keep a straight-face. “You all work at the same club, you’re all wearing the same outfit, and you’re all paid to do the same job.”

 

An uneasy silence follows, the last syllables cutting into the air, your mind.

 

Job. Yeah. That was your place now. No shinobi worthy of any respect would dare find themselves employed here.  
This was what you’d been reduced to; bargaining off petty information to real ninjas.

 

He looks uncomfortable, obviously feeling some remorse after the cutting remark.

 

“Look, I didn‘t mean it that way,“ He begins. “I-”

 

“Don’t apologize.” You mutter, slumping down onto the remains of the table you’d previously massacred in all your wrath. “I’m not even worthy of that from someone like you.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”

 

“Yeah.” your reply, sighing heavily,

 

“You know, someone that’s still a _ninja_.”

 

You catch him off guard, as he’s visibly taken aback, jaw sagging slight as he regards you with wide eyes. He opens and closes his mouth several times, not quite coming up with any kind of response.

 

“It’s an easy way to get rid of low-capability shinobi like me.” you breath through pursed, nearly dry lips. “Send them off to a zero-risk village as a spy so they can write us off in paperwork. We do nothing. We lose ourselves.” You let out a dishearten laugh “I know I’m pretty damn lost as is”

 

You feel his eyes on you, regarding you with ridicule or sympathy you can’t tell, when he lets out a sigh, that, to your surprise, turns into one of his trademark bouts of throaty laughter.

 

“You say that now, ‘____-chan‘, but you’re one of the better shinobi I’ve met in my lifetime.” he chuckles, leaning over to ruffle your hair. “And coming from me, that means quite a lot. You know how old I am?”

 

“Fifty three” you return without batting an eye, though you feel a blush creeping up your face from the contact “And say what you want, I can’t even hold my own in a fight anymore.”

 

There’s a flash behind those charcoal black eyes, as he leans in once more, shattering what was left of your personal space bubble. You feel his hair, that fucking HAIR brushing up against your cheek and your heart leaps into your throat hard enough that you sputter.

 

“I say we put that to the test right now, he murmurs, lips touching that oh so sensitive space between your ear and your neck, his breath heavy and warm against your flushed skin as he whispers.

 

" _Fuck me."_

 

“Y-yes” you mutter, starved of oxygen, hardly remembering to breath. “Please, I fucking NEED this”

 

“What?”

 

Your eyes flutter open to meet Jiraiya’s very, VERY confused expression.

 

“Huh”?

 

“I said FIGHT me.” he responds. “What the hell did you _think_ I said?”

 

“I uh, nothing” you return, desperately fighting the feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. “Fight you? I can’t even hold my own in a drinking contest with you! You’ll tear me to pieces!”

 

“No I won’t, promise” he replies, wearing a bemused smile. “Tell you what, I’ll remain purely defensive for the duration of the fight. You do all the attacking.” He nudges you playfully with his elbow. “C’mon, just for fun?”

 

“Alright” you sigh in resignation. “There’s a clearing out back we can spar in” you say, regretfully prying yourself from the couch and throwing your (now empty) bottle aside. “But you’d better keep your promise, there aren’t any medic nins anywhere near here.”

 

“Again, I promise I won’t hurt you” he repeats with a snide smile. “Unless you tell me to.”

 

[i]“Please PLEASE just let it be the hair”[/i] you hope desperately fighting off that persistent heat in your cheeks, wondering where what little remained of your sanity had run off to.

***

_Left?_

_Clear._

_Right?_

_Clear._

_“Behind, ninety degrees in either direction?_

_Also Clear_

 

Droplets of sweat form on your forehead, trickling down into your shirt, only reinforcing the uncomfortable friction between cloth and skin. You struggle with all your willpower to ignore it, and focus on your surroundings.

 

It’s been five minutes since you lost track of him. Although you’d only managed to land a few kicks, you were pleasantly surprised at how apt you’d found yourself at combat despite ten years of adapting a nearly sedimentary life style.

 

Your reaction time failed to factor into this situation, however. You should’ve known. Having spent a lifetime as a skilled voyeur Jiraiya could easily mask his presence, chakra and all.

 

There’s a rustle of the nearby shrubbery and several shuriken come flying out from the left, embedding themselves in the tree only several centimeters from your side with a distinctive “thwack”

 

Instantly your mind goes to the most logical conclusion, that the shurikin came from the same direction that they were thrown. But such a shinobi tactic was as old has the hills, so . . .

 

_Right!_

 

Focusing all your chakra into your palms, you slam your hands into the ground, sending enormous tendrils of earth racing west. There’s a choking sound and the initial disbelief that you’d actually landed a hit is soon replaced by fear as you realize your earth binds had come up empty handed.

So what then?

 

_*BAMF BAMF BAMF*_

 

You find yourself surrounded by a myriad of summon toads, each silently, by eyeing you wearily. You know you should stay still, calculate a better escape strategy, but your instinct to run overcomes you.

 

Instantly the toads open their mouths, hands, feet, any mobile limb is pulled and held taut by disgustingly slimy tongues, leaving you restrained and helpless mid-air. You try desperately to reach the ground, just a finger’s contact with the earth would give you an escape route, but your struggling is fruitless.

_Above_

 

“Fuck!”

 

And again, you find yourself staring face to face with the hermit, wearing a far too smug grin.

 

“Gotcha”

 

You notice a weakness, where you can move your leg just a fraction of an inch, and in a split second managed to pry yourself loose.

 

“Oomph!”

 

And promptly find yourself pinned down yet again.

 

“Nice try.” Jiraiya smirks. “But it’s over”

 

You let out a heavy sigh as you cease your struggles, still uncomfortably pinned down by his arms and body, and ohgodohgod his groin is far too close to the inside of your thighs.

 

“Though I got to admit, I wasn’t expecting the earth-style jutsu. I wasn’t even aware that you had mastered any elemental type techniques”

 

“Practiced them on my time off” you wheeze, hardly lending your attention to the conversation, because the proximity of a panting, sweaty Jiraiya was only fueling your ungodly fantasy that had been brewing in your mind for god knows how long. And he’s going off on some tangent about elemental techniques again, while you’re too busy wondering why he thought that was a good idea while he was still on top of you and oh god you swore you just felt something move..

 

“You seem distracted, “____-chan”  
You inhale sharply when you find he’s looking you right in the eyes, his jet black ones regarding yours with silent curiosity.

 

“About earlier…” he begins, eyes narrowing, his lips forming into a softer, yet still undeniably pretentious lopsided smile as he closes the gap between your faces, white bangs casting a heavy shadow over his face, your foreheads nearly touching.

 

“I’m not as dense as you think.”

 

The gap is closed, as he slowly scrapes his lips against yours, so softly, so subtle you’d almost think it were a mistake. Your heart hammers so furiously against your ribcage you fear for your life. He draws away, slowly, gauging your reaction, and when you don’t resist, he comes back at full force, crushing his lips against yours, prying his tongue in-between them to tangle with yours.

 

You separate, a thread of saliva breaking on your lips as you come up for air.

 

“Jiraiya, I…how did you…ah…” your string of incoherency is hushed by his lips brushing against yours yet again.

 

“I’m not stupid.” he half chuckles, “Besides” he leans in, mouth pressed to your ear “ I can tell when something other than fighting on your mind.”

 

It’s at that point, you’re willing to let all your insecurities go.

 

It’s at that point you feel alive again

 

With what little mobility you have left, you free your one of your hands, wrapping it around his neck and digging your fingers into his hair as you loose yourself in the kiss, his gentle ministrations leaving your lips and drawing down your jaw line, your neck. The motion he initiates with his hips grinding into yours is reminiscent of something so feral, so needed, you arch your back, dipping your groin into his is met with a deep guttural version of your name hissed through clenched teeth.

 

You feel it moving, his arousal, straining to break free against his pants, pressed far too tight to your stomach as the feverish grinding continues, and you manage to slip your free hand between your bodies, through the top of his yukata and under his waistline to wrap your fingers around the aching erection. An experimental tug results in a heavy, wet, incoherent order, or plead lost into your mouth as you feel his entire body stiffen in response to your gentle but firm pumping.

 

This is met with firm reprisal as he slips his own, much larger hand under your skirt, weaving his fingers past your panties and without much warning eases one, then two fingers into you. You let out a sharp gasp, followed quickly by quietly, needed mewling, his movements in time with your own against his erection. With a twinge of disappointment, you’d all but resigned yourself to mutual touching, when Jiriaya suddenly stops, moving slightly to allow himself enough room to take hold of your shorts with one hand and roughly pry them off your waist, occupying his other hand with the task of removing his own pants.

 

It’s not until he finally frees himself from the confines of clothing and maneuvers himself back against you, the weeping head of his cock pressing against your cunt that the fear hits you.

 

You were really about to fuck Jiraiya.

 

Fuck.

 

Jiraiya.

 

It wasn’t adding up in your brain.

 

He must have noticed, because he stops himself just as he’s about to press himself in, a mixture of disappointment and hurt in his eyes.

 

“We don’t have to do this.”

 

You open and close you mouth several times, trying to speak, but finding your throat dry. Why where you afraid? Why couldn’t you do this?

 

The sannin lets out a deep, shaky sigh, closing his eyes, but before he can move away, you latch onto his arm.

 

“Don’t” you mutter, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please, don’t.”

 

“Why not? We don’t have to do this, I obviously misread the situation. If you’re not comfortable with it-”

 

“I AM comfortable with it!” you repeat desperately “ I’m just afraid.. Afraid that-”

 

“Afraid of what? He deadpans, exasperated.

 

“Afraid that everything’ll change.” you break down. “Afraid that I’ll just be another one of those girls that ends up in Icha Icha and not your ’_____-chan’ anymore, and that-”

 

“Stop. Right there.” he presses a finger against your mouth. “You’re always going to be ‘____-chan‘, no matter what. And this doesn’t have to change. Not unless you want it to. Don’t think this will make you unimportant to me either. He breathes, leaning in against your neck. “

 

You swallow hard against the dry patch in your throat, blinking away the remnants of tears.

 

“So, you mean, you really mean-”

 

“There’s a reason I keep volunteering to gather information from you.” he smirks. “So god help me I’ve actually developed feelings for you.”

 

You could say with all certainty that nothing in your life could hope to compare with this moment.

 

The phrase starts in your throat, but dies on your tongue. Maybe it was too soon for a confession of that magnitude but at the rate this relationship was progressing, it would come soon enough.

 

Maybe.

 

Hopefully.

 

This time, the kiss was meant to silence you as he pushes himself in at long last, though failing to stifle a sharp cry as an unconscious buck of his hips forces the rest of his length in rather harshly. There’s a moments pause as he allows you to adjust to his girth before resuming the rhythm he’d introduced you to earlier.

 

What begins as a slow, gentle pace gradually builds up to a moderate but deeply penetrating rhythm, as he crashes his hips against yours. There’s a small but noticeable pain/sensation when his cock reaches too far back, electing a sharp cry from you. His lips come bearing down on yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and rope your legs around his waist, using your new found leverage to move in time with his thrusting.

 

Blood pounding in your ears you hardly notice his harsh gasps increasing, his body, his muscles seizing as he picks up the already feverish pace with quick but furious motions, your breath hitches in your throat as your feel yourself pulsing, constricting his cock as a warm, familiar sensation pools bellow your stomach, before bursting, sending electric pinpricks through your body to your fingertips and you cry out his name.

 

Through the haze of aftershock you hear him gasping obscenities as he buries his face in your hair. There’s jerking, a spasm of muscles and he grips you painfully tight as he comes hard inside you, breathing your name as he rides out his orgasm.

 

There’s a brief, unearthly silence as you both lay unmoving on the grass, where neither of you hear anything save for the frantic racing of your hearts.

 

Sluggishly, he manages to roll off you, his cock leaving your body with a distinctive pop, and you mentally curse yourself for ruining your panties as your combined juices seep out.

 

Part of you wanted to get up and leave immediately, because the ground underneath you now seemed so uncomfortable without anything to distract you, and because you could really use a shower right about now, and the other half never wanted to leave, to burn this memory into your brain as accurately as possible because you’d never experience anything this perfect again.

 

You shift around to lay your head on his chest letting out a happy, satisfied sigh. Something small, square, metallic that had half-fallen out of the pocket of Jiraiya’s discarded pants catches your eye. You reach for it, and curiosity soon turns to pure, unadulterated horror as you realize what it is.

 

“J-Jiraiya?” you stutter, sweat now streaming profusely from your brow.

 

You hold the unopened condom in front of him.

 

“I think we forgot something.”

 

You can almost hear his heart stop dead in it's tracks.

 

“Fuck.”

 

****************

 

A month later, at Jiraiya’s urging, Tsunade had convinced the council that the information trade for Iwagakura was a time and money sink, and you had been returned to Konoha.

 

You’d gotten an apartment, right beside Naruto’s, no less, you’d been reunited with your family after a nearly ten-year absence, and you’d entered the Jounin exam which started in the fall. Everything was looking up.

 

Until the routine physical, that is.

 

“The hell are you so nervous about?” Naruto chimes, choosing to harass Jiraiya over the hundred or so ninja that were waiting around the clinic for similar reasons. “’_____-chan’ give you cooties or something?”

 

“Naruto” Jiraiya whispers, kneeling down to his level. “While women are generally thought of as the weaker sex, even amongst shinobi, there is one, deadly, fearsome technique they use to capture men and turn into raging monsters at the same time."

 

Naruto rolls his eyes. “Pfft Sakura-chan does that every month. It’s called a period.”

 

“I wish.” Jiraiya audibly gulps. “This is worse, far worse.”

 

His monologue is cut short as you smash the adjoining door down with a well aimed kick. Ignoring the shocked whispers that soon follow, you march right up to the frightened sannin, eye twitching involuntarily as you grab him by the collar with one hand, cracking your knuckles maliciously with the other.

 

“Guess who’s loosing a testicle?" You hiss through clenched teeth, somehow pulling the terrified sannin's face level to yours despite the considerable height difference, fury radiating off every inch of your being.

 

"M-me?" Jiraiya's normally deep voice nearly reduced to a squeak.

 

"That's right." you snarl, narrowing your eyes to slits. "You are, _'Daddy'_. "


End file.
